Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
Rhett
Fifteen Years Ago
A s I stared at Penelope while she sat in the bow of the boat, my mind spinning with far too many thoughts, something made me lift my phone from my side. Something made my thumb swipe the screen. And something made me point the camera at Penelope and hit Record.
I’d just hung up with Lainey, and she’d asked me to take photos. I was going to give her something even better.
A fucking video.
And the star was her twin sister, holding the rolled-up bill to her nose, snorting each line of the powder she’d cut.
I let several seconds of footage roll before I ended the recording and shoved my phone into my pocket.
I wasn’t going to yell at her even though I wanted to.
I wasn’t going to take the mirror and the bag of blow and throw them into the water because, knowing her, she probably had a lot more with her.
I wasn’t going to tell her that watching her do drugs on the floor of my family’s boat when we weren’t even partying confirmed everything I’d feared.
Penelope Taylor was a fucking mess.
As I continued to stand here, reeling, I thought about what Penelope had said just a few minutes ago.
“No, you’re shit out of luck because I don’t share.”
The coke—that was what she had been talking about. If I’d had some, she’d have snorted mine. But since I didn’t—and I didn’t mess around with that stuff—she’d use what she’d brought, and she wouldn’t share it with me.
She didn’t need to.
But what she needed to do was stop, so I walked over to her and said, “Penelope, you need to slow down with that shit.”
She finished the last line and cupped the end of her nose, rubbing it, like the insides were burning. “I’m having some fun. You should try it, you snore.”
The baggie of white powder that sat on her lap was still practically full.
“Put it away, Pen.”
“It? That’s what we’re calling it?” She bit her lip, releasing it to smile. “The same title as Timothy? Now, that’s just mean.”
My patience was running out. “Pen?—”
“Because this isn’t an it .” She held up the baggie. “This is expensive-ass?—”
“I don’t care what it is. Put it away.”
“God, you really are a snore.” She slipped the mirror into her bag, along with the coke and rolled-up bill, and stood. “All right, captain, I’m all yours.” Her hands went to her hips. “What do you need me to do?”
She really thought I would assign her a task at this point?
Now, that was funny.
I pointed at the center double-wide captain’s chair in the middle of the boat, which was unfortunately the only seating. “I need you to sit, and do not move.”
“Don’t you need me to tie something? Or untie something? Or start something? Hell, I can’t remember what you said, that was, like, five hours ago.” Her jaw was swinging, her pupils so big that I could see them from several feet away.
“No, I need you to sit. I’ll do everything else.”
She came toward me and put her hands on my shoulders, leaning up on her tiptoes to get closer to my face. “You sure? I can be super useful. I’m good at all kinds of things?—”
“Go sit. Now.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re the worst.”
While she stomped her way over to the center console, like a child, I waited until the water around us was clear, and then I went to each of the cleats that faced the dock and untied the lines. With nothing holding us in place, I took a seat next to Penelope, and with the engines already running, I used the bow thruster to propel us away from the dock until I was satisfied with the clearance. I then put the boat in gear and maintained a speed that let off minimal wake as I made my way out of the marina.
When I bore down on the throttle, the engines revved, showing off their horsepower, and Penelope’s hair began to fly, the pieces hitting my arms, her laughter blasting in my ears.
“Faster!”
I ignored her.
“Faster, Rhett!”
I still paid zero attention to what she was saying. This was my territory, not hers, and I didn’t take orders on the boat.
But when she shook my arm and asked, “Why is this the first time I’ve been on your boat?” she put me in a position where I had to reply.
This was a place where I came to chill. Where I came to get away. Penelope brought the loudness and drama, and I wanted relaxation and quietness.
That was why I never told Lainey to bring her sister.
But I couldn’t say that to Penelope.
“Rhett! Answer me!”
Jesus Christ.
“What do you want to know, Penelope?” I asked, hoping the drugs would make her forget her question.
“Why haven’t you ever taken me boating? This is so fun!”
“Lainey’s only been a handful of times.”
“So?”
I steered us into the open channel. “I don’t know … when I take her boating, we want to be alone.”
“Fuck being alone. You need to start bringing me. I love this.” She wrapped her arm around the top of the seat, her fingers on my back, and she put her bare feet on the dash, head tilted toward the sun. “Yep, this is paradise. And this is how I want to spend my whole summer with you and Lainey. Call me queen of the third wheel.” She pulled down her glasses, looking at me over the rim, giving me a wink. “And you’re one hot-ass captain.”
She reached for the button for the music and cranked it up.
Within no time, she was dancing in the seat.
Not me. I was focused on the depth and how the boat was riding the plane, the very surface of the water, and how the chop was so mild that there was no reason to throttle back.
I tried to tune her out, but every time she shifted her hips, I swore she moved closer and somehow found a way to touch a part of me, whether it was my chest or hip or shoulder.
“Dance with me, lover boy.”
I held the helm with my right hand, the same side she sat on, and kept my arm outstretched. I was using that arm like a shield, hoping it would block her, even though it didn’t seem to since she was somehow still touching my chest.
“I’m driving the boat, Penelope.”
“If you stand up, you can dance.”
“No, I can’t.”
Which was a lie. I could dance while I was sitting, and I could dance if I was standing, and in either position, I could drive the boat. But I wasn’t going to accept her invitation because giving that girl an inch was the last thing I needed to do.
“Rhett,” she whined, “dance with me.”
In the two years that my father had owned this boat, I’d never wished he’d gotten a bowrider—a style that had a lot more seating—until now. I would do anything for Penelope to be sitting in the bow, far from me, where she couldn’t touch me whenever she fucking wanted.
“I know what will get you in the mood.” She shifted to grab something from her pocket and held up a joint. “You can do the honors, captain.”
“Nah, I’m good.”
She took out a lighter. “You don’t want to smoke?”
Of course I wanted to smoke. I wanted that entire joint to myself.
Once we got to the beach house, that would be a whole different story, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to do anything to risk messing up Dad’s million-dollar boat.
“No, I don’t,” I told her.
She nudged my shoulder. “What’s gotten into you?” She put the joint between her lips and lit the end, taking a long drag. Her exhale blew right into my face. “Here.” She tried handing it to me.
“I told you, I don’t want it.”
“Why not?”
I leaned my face away, keeping my eyes on the water. “Because I just don’t want to smoke.”
“But you always want to smoke.”
“I just don’t want to right now.”
She groaned, “Ugh, you’re getting worse by the second.”
So was she.
“Just think, I’m leaving more for you. Isn’t that what you want? To get even higher?” When I gave her a quick glance, her eyes were narrowed as she stared at me.
“No. I want to share it with you. I want us both to get so fucked up.”
I turned back toward the water. “I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll smoke with you once we get to Timothy’s. But not before.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and rested her face on my arm. “I’m back to loving you.”
I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
I was leaning toward bad.
“But, Rhett, just so you know, you’re going to dance with me. I’m not giving you any other choice.”
A cloud of smoke rose over my face as she blew it toward me.
“I’m not dancing, Penelope. I told you, I can’t.”
“You just don’t want to. But I’m going to change your mind.”
She puffed down the rest of the weed and tossed the paper into the water. Then, she knelt on the seat, her palms pressed against the hard top above us.
“You need to sit, Penelope.”
Instead of staying in that spot, she moved behind me, wedging into the small space between my ass and the seat. Her thighs pushed against my back, her hands went to my shoulders, and she started to sing to whatever was playing.
“You’ve got to move,” I ordered. I grabbed her hand, and I tried to return her to the seat beside me. “Pen, come on. This isn’t funny. We’re going fast, and this isn’t safe.”
She wouldn’t budge.
She was only getting louder, grinding more of her body against mine.
“Penelope!”
Shouting her name did nothing; she wasn’t listening, nor was she returning to her seat.
“You need to get off me!”
When nothing changed, I stood, hoping she’d back off from all the touching and dancing and calm down a bit.
“ Yesss , Rhett! That’s just where I want you!”
That hope completely died because, out of nowhere, one of her legs wrapped over my shoulder, the front of her pressed against the back of me, her other leg hung over my opposite shoulder, and she held my head for balance.
“Penelope! What the fuck?! Get off my shoulders right now!”
“I want to dance!”
And she did, like we were at a concert and she wanted a better view of the stage, bopping on top of me as if this were totally normal. She was completely ignoring the fact that we were in the middle of the ocean and this was one of the most dangerous things she could do.
I pulled back on the throttle, lowering our speed. It wasn’t a super-busy day on the water, but there were enough vessels around that I needed to keep my focus.
But no matter what I did, she just wasn’t having it. She couldn’t stand that she wasn’t getting all my attention. And the more I tried to blow her off—even though that was impossible since she was on my damn shoulders—the harder she rocked her hips.
It was like she was fucking the back of my head.
I couldn’t take this.
She needed to stop.
But I knew I wouldn’t be able to get her down if I was standing, not without her falling, and I didn’t want to hurt her in any way. So, while I held the helm with both hands, I took a seat, and I tried wiggling out of her grip.
She only clung on tighter.
“Penelope—”
“Come on, lover boy. Dance! Dance! Dance!”
“Get off.”
“No!”
“I’m driving the fucking boat, Pen! Why won’t you take no for an answer and chill the fuck out?!”
When she still didn’t move, I released the helm and pushed one of her legs off and switched hands on the wheel to do the same thing with her other leg.
“You’re not getting away from me that easily, lover boy.” She tried to get on my shoulders again.
But I caught her leg midair and turned so I could glare into her eyes. “You need to cut this shit out. I have to drive the boat. You’re out of fucking control right now. Stop!”
“God! You’re such an asshole! I’m not even doing anything wrong!” Her eyes widened, and a weird smile came over her face, her finger raising and pointing toward the bow. “Bumper boats! Now, that’ll be really fun!”
Bumper boats?
My head turned just in time to see the vessel she was pointing at.
I knew we were getting closer to it because right before I looked at her, I moved us more to the side, adjusting our path, to avoid the boat and its wake.
I’d thought I’d given us plenty of clearance, that we weren’t in line with that boat anymore.
But somehow, that was no longer the case.
Either the water had shifted us, the other boat had moved in the same direction as us, or I’d unknowingly turned the wheel.
Whatever it was, we were fucked.
Because not only were we directly behind that boat, but we were about to crash right into it.